


Inseparable Sisters Stark

by AFuckingWriter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFuckingWriter/pseuds/AFuckingWriter
Summary: Arya and Sansa exchange gifts on their way out of Winterfell (before Ned Stark was beheaded and everything went bad for them ). This is just fluffy Christmassy love between sisters.





	

Snow fell thick and fast through the icy North air,the blinding shield of Winterfell. The wooden carriage they were travelling in was generating a low grumbling noise as it trundled slowly over the uneven roads, it gave Sansa a headache. Sansa was reacting to every noise with agitation, snapping at Arya when she would drop something or fidget excessively. Septa would say she was being unladylike but Sansa did not care.  
The Starks were invited at a feast in Kings Landing and it was both Sansa’s and Arya’s first real time leaving the North, however neither of them felt they would miss it too much, both were very open to exploring the Red Keep and seeing life over the Winterfell walls.  
Arya huffed as she attempted to make herself more comfortable in the harsh wooden pew digging into her thighs through the rough materials of her dress. She squirmed in her seat, wincing as the firmness of the wood pressed against the bruises caused by the stick fight with Mycah. She hadn’t really forgiven Sansa for being a liar, she doubted she ever would, but hearing her lay awake at night, sobbing into her pillow made her realize how fragile she was. Sansa was not like her at all, she realized. Arya never cried, especially not over some stupid Prince.  
“Arya ! Shut up !” Sansa snapped to her sister, who was still fidgiting in reluctance to sit still.  
“No” Arya snarled back, repositioning herself in an awkward half stand up, half squat for a few seconds before realising that was even more uncomfortable and tucking her legs under her to sit cross legged on the seat. Then she stopped fidgeting, she told herself this was not to appease her sister but Sansa’s constant nagging at her was aggravating her too and it was appeasing to hear her finally shut up.  
They travelled in silence for a long while until the lack of conversation also drilled into Sansa’s head. Sansa felt guilty for lying but it was either side with her sister and have Joffrey hate her, or side with her future husband, Joffrey and have him love her forever. She picked Joffrey in reluctance. The carriage hit a stone underfoot with a crash, the force jolting the inside harshly. Sansa observed how the sudden movement pained Arya, who was hissing through her teeth and cursing the carriage.  
“It’s cold outside” Sansa suggested, venturing to create a conversation to bridge a bond, even only on this one journey.  
Arya made a face at her before replying, “That’s because we are in the North, idiot.”  
Arya had propped her weight up onto her skinny hands to relieve the throb of the bruising, the bruise was Sansa’s fault because she had distracted her, meaning she was off guard and got hit. She wasn’t even sure why their mother had given them a carriage together anyway, all they did was argue.  
“I was only trying to be nice” Sansa spat at her sister, her gaze returning to outside in frustration. The sky ebbed with a peaceful graying color, a marbled steam which hung around Winterfell all year round. Sansa hated the sky. She believed they grey made her face look blotchy and red so she took extra measures to appear pale and snow kissed. One of the main reasons she was looking forward to the south was the exotic weather and cultural beauty rituals… and seeing prince Joffrey again. Joffrey was so dreamy and to her, she had never seen such a strong lion of a man.  
Arya would perhaps have tried harder to forward the conversation if she had not been in painful discomfort. In her boredom she had already counted all of the slats of the carriage roof and the inaccuracies of the floor planks. She may have even answered her sister if she could be bothered, and if she had anything to say.  
Arya was currently struggling to see what Sansa even saw in Joffrey. To her, he looked like a 7 year old boy wearing his mothers necklaces and rings . She loathed him. Partly for being a coward, partly for making her father kill Lady and partly for somehow managing to make her sister like him even though he was a repulsive crybaby. The thought of him left a bad taste in her mouth and she spat outside the carriage at his appearance in her mind.  
“Arya ! That’s disgusting !” Sansa complained in disgust, why did her younger sister have to be such a beast ? She was raised like a Lady, why couldnt she act like one.  
Arya grinned at her sister in amusement as she spat again into the snow. “ You are disgusting” She laughed at her.  
Sansa half smiled back at her, maybe her and her sister would never see eye to eye and Arya would always be repulsive, but at least they were talking now.  
“No, Ser Ilyn Payne is disgusting” Sansa snorted in her giggling. Arya lightened up and chuckled too.  
The wind outside the carriage had picked up, tossling Arya’s hair over her face in a wild tangle. she tried to blow it out the way but it wouldn’t budge and she used her fingers to rip the hair from its messy confines and then push it back out of her eyes.  
Sansa watched as she struggled with her hair and suppressed the complaining voice at the back of her head which was disgusted with how messy and untameable her hair was. It was not the hair of a Lady, but a feral Wolf. The harsh wind stung her face and she closed her eyes in fear they would dry out and redden. It was always cold in the North but this was colder than usual. The North still had its seasons but they were all snowy, right now it was the winter’s winter and the time Starks usually held feasts and gave each other gifts before parting for the summer.  
“Arya…” Sansa begun, not quite knowing how her sister would react to her on a friendly level. She really didnt want Arya to reject her gift or ruin the moment she wanted to build as something positive and not hostile.  
“What ?” Arya asked impatiently, still in wonder at the snow wizzing past outside, journeys always excited her.  
“I picked this up for you the other day” Sansa said, reaching down to her feet to pick up her satchel. She rummaged through the contents to find the gift. “ I know you wont like it, but I want you to have it anyway to say im sorry for Joffrey’s behavior, it was very rude and i should take responsibility because i am his lady”  
Arya saw the kindness in her words, although Sansa calling herself Joffrey’s lady made her want to throw up or kill him. Maybe both, she wasn’t sure yet.  
With frozen fingers, Sansa tugged the small black box out of the bag and palmed it in her hand, hesitating at to whether her sister would appreciate it. She had her silversmith make it yesterday morning, she had given direct instructions as to what it should look like and it was perfect. She had even polished it herself, she hoped Arya would appreciate it.  
Arya watched her in anticipation, she hadn’t expected Sansa to get her anything, but she was glad because she had picked something up for Sansa too, it wasn’t much but she wasn’t sure there would be the same type in Kings Landing. However, she waited until Sansa would show her her gift first in case she hated it. Then she could give the gift for Sansa to her mother instead.  
Sansa handed her the black box. She hoped she would like it. She genuinely tried so hard to make hit how she would like it.  
Arya reached out and took it. The felt of the box was rich and velvety and promised expensive tastes. She opened the clasp hastily and discarded it on the wooden bench next to her.  
Sansa watched and cringed at her sister discarding the box. It was so expensive she wasn’t sure if she should’ve entrusted it to Arya after all, she hadn’t even noticed it was dornish felt ! But Sansa held her tongue after all.  
Arya held her present wrapped in tissue paper. It was so small and so delicate she feared she would break it immediately. She had realized Sansa would be dissapointed if she did not comment on the fineness of the presentation like a lady. She thought back to all of her lessons with Septa and tried to recite all the types of silks and materials she had learnt. She couldnt think of any at all, so she said, “It looks nice” as middle ground.  
Sansa smiled to herself, she had tried so hard in the presentation and Arya had noticed ! Maybe her sister wasn’t so ghastly after all.  
Arya gently unwrapped the small gift, and held it in her open palm. A silver clasped necklace with so much detail she could make out small flowers decorating the links of the chain. It was possible the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, second to the crypt under the keep. At the centerpiece was a solid silver wolfs head, its fur curled in silver strokes. It bared striking resemblance to…  
“Nymeria !” Arya glowed in adoration. Nymeria had never been found since she ran away but now it felt as though she was always with Arya, even in spirit, Arya and Nymeria were entwined just as finely as the silver chain.  
Sansa smiled as her sister was obviously pleased with the gift. They had both lost their wolves, but where Sansa knew Lady’s fate was honored, Nymeria could be anywhere.  
Arya had never been good at formalities and she hadno idea what to say, she was so so happy. Then she remembered. She held the necklace in one curled hand, and the other, scarred with stick fighting and brawls, reached into her pocket to retrieve her present to Sansa.  
“Ow !” It pricked her finger as she gently tried to scoop it up into her hand.  
She passed it, palm down to Sansa and smiled widely. She hoped she would like it, she didn’t even have to know that she stole it.  
Sansa took the gift with hesitation after seeing Arya prick herself on it.She felt its quality immediately, a silky and luxurious make. Immediately, She recognized it as a wound embroidery silk, in the same shade as the stark grey color. She hated grey but she found this beautiful. It shone like the glint of a frozen lake and its undertones were both a coal black and a glowing silver. This was not an ordinary silk, this was one of a kind. How could Arya have even retrieved this, she dare not ask. She had only heard about this type of material once, it was the type Lyanna Stark was rumored to wear only one due to expenses. She teased the strand between her thumb and finger.  
“Ow !” Sansa cried as she was also pricked. Wound tightly into the middle was a solid gold needle.  
“Arya, how did you get this?” She questioned in disbelief and admiration. Arya only shook her head and grinned as she tightened the clasp of the necklace around her neck, feeling the head of the wolf in her rugged, scabby hands.  
“I love it”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When she had returned to Winterfell to find Sansa and Jon, after taking revenge on Walder Frey, she had noticed the embroidery on her brother and sisters matching garments to be of the same material. That same silk she had given Sansa those many years ago, before being separated. She was pleased she had worn it with her after all this time, just like she had worn Sansa’s gift to her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please check out my tumblr for more at afuckingwriter@tumblr.com  
> Thank you for reading


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